Morning arrived with the manor's ether wards humming like nothing scandalous had happened in any office at all, indifferent to any remaining feelings.
Rafael, unfortunately, was not indifferent.
He opened his eyes to a ceiling he recognized, a body he did not fully recognize, and a very specific, very personal ache that suggested Gregoris Frasner had spent the night making up for lost time with methodical enthusiasm and zero remorse.
Rafael considered moving.
Rafael decided against moving.
If he stayed perfectly still, perhaps the universe would forget he existed and leave him here. Warm sheets, dim light, quiet. A reasonable place to become a permanent fixture. A historical artifact. A cautionary tale.
He turned his head slightly and found Gregoris already dressed.
Was this man human at all?
